Today I’m having a rummage sale, a sale of miscellaneous goods "gently acquainted with a previous owner" as I say and the kind that you’d be glad to have for a nickel or a quarter. You could think of these items as used or worn or you could say they’re durable and budget friendly. It’s all how you spin it. If anything is really broken down, it won't make it into my sale. My customers know they can expect good quality.
The sale is going to be held in my neighbor’s yard, the Browns. Now, why aren’t I using this nice yard I have alongside my two car garage brick rambler? Well, I’ll tell you: Peace of mind, and security.
Some buyers come early to the sales and wait outside your house like paparazzi on sale day, and I’m not one for stalkers. I leave that to the movie stars. I tell the Browns, you got about as common of a name as it goes, last name, anyways, since their first names are Gomer and Hortense, which I tell them is about the strangest combination I’ve ever heard. If buyers try to look them up in the white pages, they’ll get confused with all "Brown" locations. Secondly, when these buyers are on your property, they go crazy with picking things up before others get to them, and they’re bound to take the garden hose right off the side of your house if you don’t watch them. I tell them, all items for purchase have a yellow dot sticker but before you know it, your dragonfly wind chimes are on top of a box of books that someone is trying to get with a bulk discount.
Now, before we begin, let me give you the ground rules.
Soon as I finish my coffee, I’ll go over to set up things on the front lawn. I heard Hortense open their garage doors about 10 minutes ago. She’s got her own things she’s putting into the sale this year. I can see Gomer bringing some red hand weights out onto the driveway. I can’t see how he’s done with those but he might of switched to lifting canned tomatoes or something more handy.
We do have one big ticket item for sale this year that’s sure to draw a crowd.
It’s a flat screen TV. Gomer and Hortense got it from their grandchildren. The kids all chipped in for it and got it at the Costo. What a monster of a box, and the packing materials just added to it. Their trash was quite a sight the next pick up day. Some neighbors had to come to their house to lift up the TV and put it in place. They watched TV for two nights—they got "Betty White’s Off Their Rockers," local news, and a rerun of "Barney Miller"—and then Homer stepped on the remote. His foot dialed something wrong because the TV went blank and they couldn’t get it back to how it was. They fiddled around with it and kept it dusted but there isn’t much you do. It’s not like it has rabbit ears or anything you can adjust. When their kids found out it wasn’t working, they threatened to send someone over to take a look so Hortense told them she’d take care of it. It’s too heavy to bring outside to sell so we put a yellow label on it and have a sign we’ll tape by the side door to let people know there’s a sale item inside.
I’m heading over now—I see Gomer in his striped polo shirt and shorts. Hortense hasn’t worn shorts in years. She’s got on her usual long froufrou skirt. I’m wearing my khaki shorts and the black and white t-shirt I always wear for sale days: "Rummage Sale - All Sales are Final."
"What do we got here, Gomer?"
"Well, I brought out all the outdoorsy things. I reckon you and Hortie better get going on the inside items to get that all set up and looking nice for folks. She’s gone back in the house to get some clothes hangers."
"Are you giving me some men’s items this year? We’re always a little light there. Remember how your old ties sold last year?"
"I gave Hortie some of my old work shirts but that’s about it this year. I don’t buy clothes too often now."
I see Hortense waving at me from the side door window above her cream half-curtain. I can’t see what she’s doing there.
"What?" I say toward the door.
She comes out of the house and walks over to me on the driveway. As she walks, she glances toward the street. "Fran, I’ve seen some cars driving slowly by this morning."
"Anyone come up to your house?"
"Just some traffic in front of the house is all so far," she says. "Wait a minute. Looks like someone just pulled over and is getting out of her car."
I look at my watch. It’s 7:03 a.m. and we still have to finish set up.
The woman gets out of her car and gives us a small wave.
"Hortense, I’ll take care of this. Why don’t you and Gomer finish up with the hanging clothes. I’ll be right there."
"Sure, Fran."
I walk down the driveway. The woman approaches smiling. She’s carrying a fancy green Vera Bradley® handbag on her arm and has her hair all sprayed up.
"Good morning! How are you doing today?" she says.
"Good morning."
"Might be a hot one today."
"Can I help you with something?"
"Well, I know you’re having a sale this morning and I wanted to stop by but the problem is I have another commitment later. Do you mind if I browse now before things get started?"
"Doors open promptly at 8:00 a.m. That’s a ground rule."
"I understand. I wouldn’t actually buy anything until then, just get my things organized."
"Make a pile, you mean."
"Something like that but nothing that’d be in your way. I know you must be extremely busy right now."
"Nope!"
"Nope?"
"We’re here all day. See you later if you want to come back then." I walk back down the driveway. The lady leans left and right to get a look around from where she’s standing. She checks her watch and gets back into her car. She holds up a book in front of her and starts reading.
"Personal appointment, haven’t heard that before," I say to Gomer and Hortense as I go into the garage and carry out a folded card table.
"Is that what she said?" says Hortense.
"Is that what you call the ‘lady doctor’?" asks Gomer.
"That’s what’s called a fancy lie!" I say and we shake our heads and laugh. Gomer hangs ladies clothes on white plastic hangers that he puts on a metal clothing rack while Hortense tidies up the tables of clothing and home goods. I organize the table where people will check out.
We get everything tidied up on time and by 7:55 a.m., we’re in our positions. The checkout table is set up with plenty of reused shopping bags and cash change, and Homer, Hortense and I all have our sunscreen, hats and sunglasses, and a cool drink in an insulated tumbler. You’ve got to plan for these events. Better to do all the legwork in advance so you can have a smooth start to the day.
I stand in the driveway and check my watch. When I see the second hand slide onto the 12 so it's 8 a.m. sharp, I raise my right hand and give the A-ok sign. The first customer comes down the driveway.
The first customer is a man in a t-shirt and blue jeans with a blue baseball cap followed by a buddy behind him. They smile and nod and say good morning, and walk to the table with the small electronics, namely my old cassette player and Hortense’s hair curling set. The lady from the car walks down the driveway, too.
"Glad to see could make it," I say to her as she passes. She smiles and goes into the garage to look at clothing.
One of the men notices the sign Gomer taped by the door saying "Large Item for Sale Inside." He says something to his friend in some other language. They’ve got quite a bit to say to each other but when the first one comes over to the checkout table he just says, "What is inside?"
"You're talking about that, right?" I say, pointing over toward the sign.
"Yes. What is it?"
"It’s a rather large TV. One of those skinny ones."
The man turns and says something to the other one and they have a few exchanges again. He says to me, "Can we see it?"
"Gomer!" I call over to him. "These men want to see the TV." Then I tell the man, "He escorts everyone into the house. He’ll take you in to see it."
Gomer comes over, "Fran, I didn’t see a price on it earlier. Did you tag it?"
"I’m taking the best offer on that one. See what they’re willing to pay if they like it. Make sure they know they have to take it away. No deliveries."
Gomer nods and motions for the men to follow him into the house. Meanwhile, a family of four and two ladies come down the driveway.
Hortense usually doesn’t put in too much other than some of Gomer’s clothes but this year she’s selling some costume jewelry, which is already getting a lot of attention. I hear the personal appointment lady gasp. I figure something must of fallen down in there so I wave Hortense over to the checkout table.
"Hortense, mind checking inside to see if everything’s alright? I heard that lady from the car say something."
"Sure thing, Fran." She walks inside, her skirt swaying as she goes. I see her looking over the tables and straightening up the clothes. She gets near where the lady is standing by the piles of costume jewelry. "Is everything okay?"
"I’m doing just fine. Thank you."
I see the lady walk out the garage door with something in her hand. Out in the sunlight, she looks it more closely. It’s one of Hortense’s brooches. She takes out a cellular phone and holds it in front of it like a magnifying glass. I hear a click. Then she monkeys with the phone and I hear a loud swoosh kind of a sound.
"Excuse me," she says, coming over to the table. "How much is this?"
I take a look at it. It’s a tarnished silver brooch with a heart and some flowers on it. Not particularly attractive. "Hortense!" I call over to her. "How much for your brooches? They’re all the same price?"
"I think so but let me take a look at that one. I’ll be right over." The personal appointment lady keeps staring at her phone and petting it with her finger, waiting for it to ring, I guess. She suddenly gasps and puts her hand over her mouth and starts laughing.
"Everything okay?" I say to her.
"Yes, just fine. How much is this? Did you say?"
"Hortense will be right with you. She’s helping someone inside with pricing some clothes."
Gomer bursts out of the house from the side door. He’s holding some money in his hand. "Hortie! Hortie! You gotta hear this!" The two men come out behind him.
"Gomer, what’s going on?" I say.
"Hortie!"
"Gomer, I’m busy!" she says. "Can it wait?"
Gomer puts the money in his front pocket and shakes hands with the guys. "See you 'round 6 o’clock for pick up then." The men leave and Gomer heads for the garage.
"We’re not going to get anywhere at this rate," I say. "Excuse me, miss, let me see that brooch. I’ll just go ask her directly." I lock my moneybox and pick it up by the handle and take the brooch and go into the garage. The ladies Hortense was helping are now folding the clothes they’re going to buy. Gomer’s eyes are bugging out of his head and Hortense is leaning forward trying to understand what he’s saying. "Hortense, when he’s done here, I’ve got to get a price on this item."
"So after they fixed the TV," Gomer says, "we tried out a few channels to make sure it worked and all, and we got to the Antiques Roadshow. They were talking about some famous designer from the 18th century or something who made some jewelry, and no one has it but they know it’s out there because they have some drawings of it."
"Gomer, you can talk about your programs later," I say.
"They showed the drawings on TV to talk about how it’s like his architecture and all, and Hortie, by God if one of them drawings isn’t that old ugly brooch of yours!"
"Which brooch?" Hortense and I ask at the same time.
"That ugly one with the heart and flowers that’s all tarnished."
Hortense gasps and puts her hand over her mouth. "I put it in the sale! Fran we didn’t sell it, did we?"
I stick out my arm and open my hand.
"That’s it!" Gomer yells and slaps his leg. "Wahoo!"
"I came over to check on the price!"
"Oh, Fran, don’t sell that one. We can’t! Gomer, how much did they say it was worth?"
"The man didn’t put a fixed number on it but said could be up to $10,000, maybe even $15,000."
"Fifteen thousand dollars?" Hortense’s mouth hangs open. I think the dollars have shocked it so it'll stay that way.
"Excuse me," one of the ladies with the clothes is saying. "Can someone help check us out?"
"I’ll be right there," I tell her. I turn back to Gomer and Hortense. "Now, listen, I can see you’re thinking of pulling this old brooch out from the sale but I have a customer waiting at the table. You did put it in the sale, so fair being fair, I need a price for it. My customers know I stand behind my merchandise."
"What do you think, Gomer?"
"You need haggle room, Fran?"
"Best to have some room. It’s a rummage sale."
"Start her at $15,000. Lowest is $5,000."
I nod. "Fair enough." I walk back over to the table and set the money box and brooch on top. "Sorry to keep you waiting, miss. I did get a price. The starting price is $15,000."
The lady throws her head back and laughs. "That’s a riot. What is it, really?"
"That’s it. The item belongs to the Browns and they priced it."
She blinks a few times and says awkwardly, "That’s the best price?"
"Well, they’re willing to go down into the single digits."
"Single digits, in the thousands of dollars?"
"That’s right."
"Who’s ever heard of something that expensive being in a rummage sale?"
"We have items for all budgets and tastes," I say.
She sighs like she’s been found out. "I’ll pass." She heads back to her car.
Gomer walks over and picks up the brooch. "Hortie, I’m gonna look up that Antiques Roadshow number. Let’s give ‘em a call and find out when they can take a look at this."
"Gomer, we have a sale going on here and look how busy we’ve gotten." I gesture around as I take a pile of books from a man standing at the checkout table. People are lined up all along the display tables and cover the yard.
"It’ll just take a minute, Fran. It’s not every day you find a piece of your junk is worth thousands." He’s so happy with himself that he winks at me. "Hortie, let’s go, and bring all your jewelry back inside. Maybe there’s something else good in there." He walks over and goes inside the house.
Hortense goes over and picks up the plastic bin with her costume jewelry. "Fran, mind if I go inside for a few minutes?"
I know how Gomer and Hortense are when they get a project. There’s no stopping them. They once had a gopher, a ground squirrel as Gomer calls it, in their yard and there was no talking to them about anything else. Tunnel vision, like they say. Gomer spent a week setting traps, poking the ground and drawing up a map of burrows while Hortense stood guard every morning and evening to watch for it coming and going. By the time they trapped that rodent, Hortense and I had a week and a half of TV shows and news to catch up on.
"Go on ahead, Hortense. I’ll manage. Come out when you’re done."
"Call me if you need anything," she says and goes inside the house.
I write down the price of each book the man has and tally them up. As he’s counting his money, I see the teenage daughter of my neighbors across the street walking down the driveway.
"Hi, there, Mary! How are you doing today? Your mom send you over?" I put all the books into a brown paper bag with handles and hand it to the customer. "Thanks much."
"Hi, Mrs. Kramer." She comes over to my table. "Yeah, she’s setting her hair and asked me to come down to look for blouses and books for her friend’s grandkids." She rolls her eyes.
"You’re a breath of fresh air. I need some help here."
"How much is this?" a woman shouts and steps out from the garage holding a wooden cheeseboard with a matching knife.
I put my hand over my eyes to get a better look. "Fifty cents!" I yell over and turn back to Mary. "Mr. and Mrs. Brown had to go inside and I’m shorthanded. Can you help me out for awhile?" A woman approaches the table with some clothes, a ceramic frog and Hortense’s hair curling set. "I’ll give your mom two blouses, her choice, free of charge."
"That’s fine," she says. "I have to stay until she gets here anyway. What should I do?"
"I’ll check out these people. You could walk around and see if anyone has any questions."
"Okay." She turns around and wanders amongst the people looking at items on the lawn. I start checking out the woman who’s waiting. "Hey, boss!" she calls over from the tarp with used shoes. "This guy wants to know if he gets a discount if he buys three pairs."
"Quarter off the total!" I yell back, folding a pair of pants and putting them into a plastic bag.
Mary continues walking around. She goes into the garage and then comes back carrying a glass vase and a green decorative pillow with an embroidered parrot on it. "A lady inside wants to keep looking. Where can I put these for her?" My table is at the edge of the driveway so I point to the grassy area behind me.
"You can set up a little area behind me for holds. You’ll need to make a sign. There’s some tape and things in one of the boxes under the table."
"Got it, boss." She sets the items on the grass and reaches under the table to pull out supplies. She breaks down a large cardboard box and lays it open on the grass. She inserts my yard stick next to it and makes a sign with black marker that she tapes to it that says, "ON HOLD—HANDS OFF!" I turn around as she’s putting the vase and pillow on top of the cardboard. "What do you think?"
"To the point. I like it."
She brushes her hands together and goes back to the garage to tell the customer where to find her hold items. She stays inside awhile and then comes back to the table as I’m wrapping up a salt and pepper shaker set shaped like fish.
"You know, Mrs. Kramer, there’s a lot of stuff."
"And?"
"It’s going to take forever to get rid of it, and what if you’re left with a bunch of junk at the end of the day?"
"I start sales at 3 o’clock. I usually move more merchandise at the end of the day."
Mary looks around at the yard and garage. "Can’t we do something now to make this go faster?"
"What’re you saying 'we' for? You’ve been helping 10 minutes. You’ve got no experience with sales."
"I don’t need experience to know that no one wants to buy Mr. Brown’s socks."
"You’d be surprised." I turn to the customer. "Thanks. Have a good day," I say, handing him a plastic shopping bag with the shaker set.
"Come on. Let’s try something. This is boring."
I’m suspicious but I like her entrepreneurial spirit. "What’d you have in mind?"
"How about we make some grab bags? That’ll get rid of a lot of things at once and people will be happy that they’re getting extra stuff."
I think it over as I take money for a snow shovel. "I’ll give you three test grab bags. If it doesn’t work, we stop after that."
"Awesome! Is it okay if I use some of those plastic bags and the supplies?"
"Help yourself."
Mary pulls out the box of supplies and takes three plastic grocery shopping bags, some string, paper, a marker and some tape. "Be back soon," she says and heads into the garage.
Hortense comes out of the house and walks over to the table. "How’s it going, Fran? Gomer and I were going to have some lunch. Should I bring something out for you?"
"I brought my lunch in my insulated bag. I can eat it at the table though since you’re out here, I’ll step inside to use the bathroom. Did you reach the show people?"
"We did, well, a producer, anyway. Not the expert. They’re having a show in the area in a couple of months so we’re going to bring in the brooch then," she says. "Gomer wanted to describe every piece of my jewelry by phone to check if there’s anything else and they told him to go through it himself, so now he’s trying to look up things on the computer."
"Let me head in now before the next customer comes up. I’ll be right back." I go into the house and Hortense takes a seat on the folding chair behind the table.
When I return, I see Mary with three bags by the table. "These are the grab bags?"
"Yes they are," she says. "One for the ladies, one for the men, and one gender neutral one. I just need to know what price to put on them."
"What do you have in there?"
"For the ladies, a small bag of potpourri, an unopened lipstick, some hair ties, a box of tea and a small book of quotes by women. For the men, three pairs of Gomer’s socks, a travel-size deodorant with cologne—"
"He never goes anywhere, and he doesn’t use cologne," Hortense says.
"A bowling pin-shaped tiepin, and a pen. The gender neutral one is games—a deck of playing cards, jacks, a travel chess set, and a pad of paper with pre-drawn lines for hangman and tic-tac-toe."
"Let’s put $2 on each and see what happens."
"It’s like a gift basket. How nice," says Hortense.
Mary picks up a small cardboard box and writes a sign that says, "GRAB BAGS--$2 EACH." She says, "I’ve already labeled each bag with ladies, men or neutral."
She sets the box on the ground near the checkout table.
A man walks over carrying a bike helmet and a deflated camping air mattress.
"Ready to check out?" I ask him. He glances at the box on the ground.
"What are those?"
Mary says, "Grab bags. Just $2 each for a $5 value."
"Who knows what’s in there, though."
"That’s what makes it fun."
He shakes his head and laughs. "Just these. Thanks." He hands me the items so I can write down the prices.
Mary’s offended but she’s not one to give up as I’m learning. I look over at her and see she’s surveying the crowd to find a target. Two high school girls from one town over come down the driveway with one of their moms. Mary smiles and walks over to them. I watch her as I put the bike helmet in a bag.
"I can carry that," the man says to me. I hand him the helmet and the mattress, and look over to see Mary coming back over to the box with the girls.
"Here they are," she says, picking up the gender neutral bag from the box. "Aren’t they kitschy?"
"Hilarious," says one of the girls.
"Want to make an offer?"
"You know what would be so funny?" the girl says to the other. "We should get one for Ryan. His birthday is tomorrow."
"We could see what’s in the other two and give whatever we don’t want to your sister," says the other girl. She turns to Mary. "We’ll give you $3 for all three." Mary looks over at me.
"You buying anything else?" I ask the girl.
"Mom!" she shouts to the lady that came with them who’s standing in the book area with three romance novels in her hands. "Are you buying anything?"
The mom yells back, "Yeah!"
The girl turns to me. "Yeah."
"Good enough."
The girls pool together the $3 and take the grab bags. They walk over to sit on the grass and open the bags, talking and laughing as they go through the things.
Mary is smiling now. "I did it!"
"Nice saleswomanship," I tell her. She swings back and forth with her hands behind her back, smiling and looking out at the remaining inventory. "S---!" she says under her breath. "Hi, Mom!" she calls out. I look over and see her mom in fresh curls walking down the driveway. Mary waves and runs into the garage to the ladies’ clothing rack.
"Hello, there, Virginia," I say. She comes over to the table. "Your Mary has been helping me out here. She’s quite an entrepreneur."
"I hope she’s been looking for the things I asked her to," her mom says.
"She’s looked through it all and straightened everything as she did it. I told her you get three blouses no charge."
"That’s nice of you, Fran."
"And we have some coloring books for your friend’s grandkids."
Mary comes over to the table with her arms full of clothes and books for her mom to look at. "Here, Mom," she says handing the things over with a worn look on her face like she’s been holding them the whole time. She turns to me. "Mrs. Kramer, you want to get your lunch? I can handle the table if you want."
"Go ahead, Fran," her mother says. "I’ll keep an eye on the till."
"Thanks much. It is past my lunchtime. I’ll just eat over there on the side." I reach under the table and take out my insulated lunch bag and thermos, and go into the house to wash my hands and fill my thermos with ice water. I come back out and see that there’s a bit of a lull so Mary and her mom are sitting and chatting. I pull a lawn chair from the Brown’s patio closer to the sale, take a seat, and take out my hard salami sandwich.
It’s a clear day and I look around at the few people milling about. The sales are a pain in the backside when you get down to it, from the prep right through the evening clean up. But it’s nice like this, sitting back and seeing it all work out. Neighbors, strangers, everyone coming together because of some handwritten neon signs posted around the neighborhood and by the main road. As grumpy as I get sometimes with the crazies who try to pull the chair out from under you, there’s some of that good, old-fashioned community magic in it.
A woman goes over to the table to check out and leaves with a bag of items and a large sunflower lawn ornament that Mary helps carry out to her car. When Mary comes back down the driveway, she smiles and gives me a thumbs up. I give her a salute back. I finish my banana and take my things inside the house to throw away trash and wash up.
When I come back outside, I tell Mary and her mom that I’m going to take a quick walk around to see what we’ve got left. When I go into the garage, I see that Mary has rearranged the tables to create scenes or vignettes as Hortense calls them from watching her home decorating show. By the home goods, Mary’s set out dishes, a candle, a napkin and serving pieces to make it look like a place at a table. In the woman’s clothing area, she’s assembled outfits with coordinating accessories hung or attached to the hangers with the clothes. In the activities area, she’s set out poker chips and cards with the cassette player, a stack of tapes, and beer steins to look like a party.
I hear someone come up next to me and turn to see Hortense.
"Oh, Fran," she says looking around the garage. "I know how you like things a certain way. Do you want me to help you put things back by category like you had them?"
"It’s alright, Hortense. Let’s see how it works out. Mary’s got an entrepreneurial spirit in her." I look at my watch. It’s 2:30. Sale time is just about here. "Let’s go discuss the sale." Hortense and I go over to the checkout table. "Thanks, ladies. I’m finished up."
"You had some good sales," Mary’s mom says. "I’m ready to check out myself." She goes over to the hold area and picks up her pile.
"I can check you out, Mom," says Mary.
"Don’t forget your three free clothing items," I say. "Okay, Hortense. The sale. We need to put up the signs—one at the top of the driveway and down here by the yard area and the garage."
"Mrs. Kramer, could I stick around to help out a little longer?" asks Mary.
"That'd be just fine."
Suddenly, we hear a loud shout from the garage. It’s Elmer.
He found another item for Antiques Roadshow. He starts saying, "Woo-ee!" and carrying on the garage. Hortense’s face lights up and she clasps her hands together.
"Gomer, did you find something else?" she calls over.
We hear him say, "Now, this is bound to fetch a pretty penny." He comes out of the garage carrying a brown ceramic plate with the black and white profile of a cartoon goat on it.
"My cracker plate?"
"What makes you say that?" I ask him.
"One thing I learned from those people on the show, if it’s old and ugly, chances are it’s worth something."
"Gomer, I don’t see how they could want that. Maybe someone would like to hang it in a kid’s room," says Hortense.
"Mark my words," he says, going into the house with his plate.
"Alright," I say to my sale soldiers, Hortense and Mary. "Let’s get these signs up. Rule is everything is half-off. No negotiating. If someone is trying for a lower price and might walk, let me know and I’ll work it out."
"Got it, boss. I can put these up," Mary says and takes the signs and tape.
"I’m going to go around and consolidate some of the tables. Hortense, Elmer put a sold sign on the TV, didn’t he?"
"Yes, it’s there."
"Good. We need to take down that sign about an item in the house."
"I can do it," says Mary and she heads over.
I look at my watch. It’s 2:55 and I see people walking down the driveway. One of the ladies, Ruth, from town, yells over, "Sale time yet, Fran?"
"Just about. Feel free to look around."
Elmer bursts out from the side door. "I told ya, I told ya, I told ya!"
"What is it, honey," says Hortense.
He walks over with the goat plate and holds it up. "What do you suppose this is worth?"
"Not much," I say.
"Well, you’d be wrong. I looked it up on the computer and found a picture of this exact thing. It says $6,000, maybe as high as $9,000 depending on wear and tear."
Hortense puts her hand over her mouth. "I was using it for crackers! I hope I didn’t scratch it up! But I always hand-washed it."
"Who in their right mind would pay that kind of money for a goat on a plate?" I say as Mary walks back from posting the sign by the road.
Gomer says, "It’s a 'tay-tay duh chevray duh pro-fill.' I think that’s French."
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"Goat head profile."
I can’t help but shake my head.
"Did someone famous make it, is that why?" asks Hortense.
"Picasso."
Mary says, "I thought he’s the guy who made paintings of squashed up people who look like they’ve been in a car accident."
"You’re saying I was putting crackers on some plate made by Picasso that’s worth thousands of dollars?" Hortense says.
"How in God’s green earth did you even ever get that thing?" I ask her.
"At a rummage sale."
"Listen, Fran," Gomer says, getting serious all of a sudden, "I think we need to end this sale. We need to go through and make sure we’ve pulled out all the ugly things for the Antiques Roadshow."
"We’ve got customers and everyone knows my sales run until 6 p.m.," I say.
The four of us look around at the people browsing.
"And then," I add, "once you take what you need out of it, what’re we going to do with all this inventory? I don’t want any of it in my house."
"Hi, Reverend Miller," Hortense calls over as the clergyman comes down the driveway.
"Good afternoon." He smiles and walks over.
"You doing a little shopping for yourself or you need something for the church?" I ask.
"I was going to take a look at the books though we’re having the church rummage sale in two weeks so I probably shouldn’t be picking up anything now. I guess that’ll be my insurance in case I don’t like the book. I can sell it soon," he says.
"There’s some good items still left. I think there’s a book on gardening that you might like. I saw you have some gardens around your yard."
"Thank you. I’ll take a look." He smiles and walks away.
"Well, what’re we going to do then?" says Gomer.
"Gomer, can I talk to you for a second?" says Hortense. Gomer says okay and they walk several feet away and talk about something.
Mary raises her eyebrows and looks at me. "What’s that all about? Think she’s telling him off about trying to end the sale?"
"Couldn’t say. Hortense isn’t usually one to have side conversations."
A woman comes up to check out so Mary steps over to the table to help her. Hortense and Gomer come back to where I’m standing.
"Say, Fran, we were thinking," says Hortense, "what if we pay you out for the goods you have left in the sale, and then we close down early. We’ll have to find out about the goat but we know the brooch is worth something, and we wouldn’t have figured that out if it weren’t for this sale today."
"Fran, we need to close down this sale. I just don’t feel comfortable about it, and I agree with Hortense that giving you some money is fair," Gomer says. "Why don’t we put up a sign saying the sale ended early and go get some dinner. We can come back in time for those guys picking up the TV."
"What about the remaining inventory?" I say.
Hortense is looking toward the garage thinking about it. "Why don’t we donate it to the Reverend for their sale?"
Within 15 minutes, we’ve taken down the signs, finished checking out the remaining buyers with Gomer looking over all the purchases, and the Reverend is thanking us for the donation. He tells us he’ll ask one of the church members to give Gomer and Hortense a call to arrange a time to pick up the items.
"Alright! Let’s close up shop," Gomer says and the three of us and Mary put all the yard items into the garage and close the doors. "I’ll go through that tomorrow morning. Right now, let’s go get dinner, ladies. It’s on me."
"It’s not even 4:00 p.m. yet," says Mary.
"You want to come along or you’re headed back home?" I say to her.
"I have to get back. It was great helping today, though. You guys are a lot of fun."
"You think you’ll be up to helping out when we have another one?"
"Yeah, for sure."
"I’ll even get you a t-shirt like mine."
"Next time, I’m thinking we should sell baked goods and drinks—go for some impulse purchases at the checkout table."
"You’re quite an entrepreneur."
So that was our sale. A closed garage ripe with possibilities for Gomer and the Reverend, Mary telling stories to her mom that evening, and Gomer, Hortense and I having a nice dinner of chicken, rice, and rolls.
THE END
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